


Finding Familiars

by Redtiger7736



Series: The Immortals of Iazalan [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (again), Apologies and Forgiveness, Familiars, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Found Family, Light Angst, Multi, Polyamorus cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redtiger7736/pseuds/Redtiger7736
Summary: A casual day of comfort turns to an uncomfortable walk down memory lane for Myrth. Thankfully, the rest of the group is there to support him through this new struggle.
Relationships: Ivius/Elm/Rai/Zol/Myrth
Series: The Immortals of Iazalan [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096097





	Finding Familiars

“So you fold it over like this… No, the other way.”

“Ah.”

Elm smiled to herself as she listened to her boys’ work. Settled under the regrown willow tree, Elm had her head in Zol’s lap, eyes shut as sunlight danced over her skin. Every once in a while a woodchip from Zol’s carving would land in her hair before being delicately picked out and tossed aside. Ivius’ voice drifted towards them over the lazy wind alongside Myrth’s occasional comments. The familiar thumping of hooves echoed over the valley as Rai cantered around aimlessly, simply stretching Shaylan’s legs.

“Pull the stem through here, like this. Watch.”

It was good to hear Ivius’ voice so full of energy and excitement again. A week of recovery had done him well, and now he was eager to be out and about. Myrth still cautioned him against leaving the valley though, rather keeping him and Rai close to his side. Thankfully, Ivius took to the new precautions as a fish would to water, suddenly intent on teaching Myrth many of the fun things he enjoyed in the spring months at the Kintra Manor. First on the list was, of course, flower crowns.

“Oh for the love of-” Myrth cut himself off, muttering hissed curses in other languages as he tossed aside whatever start of a crown he had. Tilting her head back and peeling open her eyes, Elm could just spy Myrth curling in on himself, a deep pout on his face. “We are both  _ mages _ , why don’t we just  _ magic _ the damn crowns together?”

“That would take the fun out of it,” Ivius insisted, much like he had to Elm three years ago, “You’re an Immortal, you’ve got the time to learn.”

“I haven’t the patience,” Myrth grumbled, glowering at the partially strung together flowers. Ivius sighed, reaching out to take Myrth’s hand and rub his thumb along his knuckles, much to Myrth’s surprise.

“You sound so much like Elm,” Ivius chastised, though the smile on his face betrayed his affection, “Honestly, are all Immortals this stubborn? Zol?”

“I think you just have bad luck,” Zol rumbled, not lifting his eyes from his work, “You’ve managed to choose some of the most stubborn people to court.”

Ivius laughed, leaning over Myrth to press a kiss to Zol’s temple fondly, his hair cascading over his shoulders and swooping into Elm’s face. She reached up to brush a hand through it, tapping Ivius’ nose fondly before settling back down.

“I’d be careful Myrth,” Elm advised, drawing the man’s attention away from Ivius nearly laying across his lap, “Ivius has had plenty of practice convincing us stubborn Immortals to do what he wants. He’s as stubborn as we are.”

Myrth stared for a long moment, then sighed and mumbled in a different language. Pulling Ivius back to his seat, Myrth summoned his half-made crown with a flick of his hand and repaired the split stem, brow drawing together as he puzzled out where he went wrong. Ivius reached forward, adjusting his grip and murmuring instructions in his ear, too quiet for Elm to hear. 

With a sigh, Elm let her eyes slip closed again, her mind wandering away. Dozing in the sunshine with her boys, the hoofbeats of Shaylan and Rai in the background, a cool breeze on her face. When she started out on this mission, she didn’t think she would gain such treasures. Though Ginrath had yet to pay them in the gold they had promised, Elm couldn’t find it in her to truly care. Things were better than they had been for a long time now, and Elm wasn’t one to poke at fate.

“Elm, have you ever had a familiar?” Ivius’ quiet and genuinely curious question caught her off guard, and Elm started from her half-sleep.

“Not as of yet,” Elm replied, sitting up and settling against Zol’ peering around his chest to meet Ivius’ gaze, “Why? Is something the matter?”

“No, I’m simply curious,” Ivius replied, a relaxed grin on his face, “And eager I guess. I’m still a ways out from having the chance at one myself, but I really hope I get to meet mine. What of you, Zol? Myrth?”

Zol shook his head, still focused on his carving. Myrth, however, nodded slowly, a sigh escaping his lips and a faraway look on his face. Elm frowned, reaching out to brush her magic against him only to find him pulling away.

“I had one, once,” Myrth said, eyes tracking Rai’s movements in the field ahead of them. Ivius shared a meaningful glance with Elm, settling as close as he dared to Myrth’s side without saying a word, “I… left him. When I left society.”

Elm felt her heart clench painfully, trying to imagine the pain that brought him. It was as good as a death for a mage to lose track of a familiar, but to abandon one? Elm couldn’t imagine the insanity that would drive Myrth to do that.

“I’m sorry,” Ivius began, reaching out to take Myrth’s hand only for him to pull it away.

“This is not something you should be sorry for, it is something I have regretted since I did it,” Myrth said harshly, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Ivius drew back, a frown finding it’s way to his face. “Of all my actions in this world, that was the one I have most regretted and had the least reason for. There is no excuse for what I did, no forgiveness either. My familiar perished alone because of my own foolish fears, and that is guilt I deserve to carry.”

“Myrth,” Ivius whispered, glancing worriedly at Elm and Zol. Zol sheathed his blade, shifting closer to Myrth and clumsily reaching his magic out towards him.

“Myrth,” Elm said, shifting closer to rest a hand on his shoulder, “Of all the things I have advised my apprentices over the years, understanding of familiars is the most important one. Even without one of my own, I was always captivated by their existence, and I know much of them because of that. Rest assured when I say your familiar has forgiven you for your actions it is the truth.”

“My familiar is  _ dead _ ,” Myrth spat, attempting to shrug off her hand. Elm held fast, refusing to let him push her away quite that easily.

“Maybe in this life,” Elm said, feeling the sudden tightness in his muscles as he froze. So he didn’t know…

“What do you mean…” Myrth asked, peering over his shoulder tentatively. 

“Familiars remain Mortal when mages gain Immortality,” Elm acknowledged slowly, “But their souls do not disappear with time. They cycle, again and again, and again. Every mage with a familiar will have one always, for the familiar is the soul of a creature and not the creature itself. I know of an Immortal alchemist who began with a familiar the shape of a cat and now has an ancient tortoise. Do you understand?”

Myrth stared, mouth slightly slack as he struggled to comprehend her words. Eventually, his gaze turned away, following Rai’s movements as they trotted back down the mountainside toward them.

“I… They cycle back? W--He’s still alive?”

“Not as he was, but yes,” Elm said, her voice soft and gentle, “If only you dare to meet him again.”

Myrth tensed, a pondering frown on his face though he didn’t say a word. Elm almost thought he wouldn’t speak again, and she began to turn her attention towards Rai riding to them, a smile on their face.

“What if he hasn’t forgiven me?” Myrth’s question was quiet, whispered so delicately it was almost stomped out by the hoofbeats of Shaylan as she slowed to a walk and stopped in front of them. He sounded… scared.

Ivius reached forward without hesitation, pulling Myrth into what quickly became a welcome hug. Rai’s smile dropped, a look of confusion and worry on their face as they glanced between Myrth and Elm. They mouthed a silent ‘ _ what? _ ’, though Elm only shook her head and waved her hand in a ‘ _ later _ ’ motion. 

“I speak from the heart when I say the joy of finding you again will overtake the hurt from before,” Elm said firmly, draping an arm over Myrth’s shoulder. He wasn’t sobbing as he had the week before, but she could hear the quiet sniffling still. Ivius hummed softly, running a hand through his hair in soothing motions. “You will only know for sure if you try.”

“And what of you? Would you leave?” Myrth asked, hiding his face in Ivius’ chest, “Know what I have done to my own familiar, my own apprentice, would you leave?”

“I think we have already said this, but I’ll say it again. No, we wouldn’t,” Zol said, reaching out to lay a hand on Myrth’s other shoulder. Behind them, Rai dismounted, tossing Shaylan’s reigns on the ground as they wedged themself down by Myrth’s knees, pulling one of his hands to their chest.

“We’re here, for as long as we are welcome,” Rai said firmly, planting soft kisses on each of Myrth’s knuckles. That drew a halting sob from the man, just one, then a large gasping breath. 

“You are kind-hearted fools,” Myrth said, a wet laugh escaping his lips, “Thank you all.”

“This is not something you need to thank,” Ivius said, parroting back Myrth’s earlier words. Elm side-eyed him, earning a cheeky grin over Myrth’s head. 

“I… I have a favor to ask, I suppose,” Myrth hummed, pulling back enough to sit up straight. He leaned back into Ivius’ chest, Rai arranging themself across their laps as Elm settled in Zol’s. Somehow, they managed not to elbow or knee anyone in the process.

“Ask away, I’ll grant you much,” Zol murmured, earning a surprised and proud look from Rai.

“Would you… come with me? To look for my familiar?” Myrth seemed uncertain, gazing out on the valley once more, “I… I don’t think I could bear to do it alone.”

Elm hardly had to think, casting the barest of glances at Ivius and Rai before nodding her assent. “I think we would all love that,” Elm said softly, enjoying the chorus of agreement from Zol, Ivius, and Rai.

“...Thank you, again,” Myrth murmured, a shaky smile finding its way to his face, “For all the light you have brought me.”

“We could say the same for you,” Rai replied, reaching up to trace a small scar on Myrth’s chin, “I don’t know about everyone else, but these past few months have been some of the best in a long time for me. And Shaylan, I daresay.”

“I as well,” Elm said without hesitation, “As much as Ivius brought to my life, you all have made it better in your own ways.”

“I don’t have a very high bar to go off of,” Zol replied, a tired smile on his face, “But I can say that I feel… safe among you all. That is something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Safety and happiness,” Myrth said with a pondering hum, “I never thought I would relate to those words again.”

“And yet, here we are?” Ivius said hopefully, peering down at Myrth.

“And here we are,” Myrth confirmed, a smile on his face at last.

…

It would be three days before Myrth would dare to broach the subject again. On the third day, he emerged from his tower--still uncomfortable with the concept of sleeping every night with his lovers--and sought out Ivius and Rai. They were in the stables Myrth had built for them, the former perched in the loft while the latter trimmed Shaylan’s mane.

Clearing his throat uncertainly, he stepped into the shaded building and drawing the attention of the two Mortals. Rai offered him a quick smile before refocusing on their task, though Ivius kept his gaze focused on him.

“Good morning Myrth!” Ivius grinned brightly, sliding down from the loft to land with a soft thunk. “Sleep well?”

“No, well… I didn’t sleep,” Myrth paused, rusting in his trouser pocket for a moment before withdrawing two beaded necklaces, “I was working on something for you two. I got to thinking over the past couple of days, trying to figure out how to make it safe for you to leave my barrier. Not that you should be doing so on your own, but… for finding my familiar. Should you still want to come.”

“Of course we want to come,” Ivius said instantly, stepping around Shaylan and Rai, “We promised, didn’t we?”

“Technically no but that doesn’t change the sentiment,” Rai said, snipping off a long section of white from Shaylan’s mane, “We want to come and you aren’t going to change that.”

“I’m not trying to,” Myrth defended, a pout on his face, “I just wanted to check. Look, with Ekail around it’s more dangerous for you two than anyone else. Ekail is a powerful mage, but they cannot harm an Immortal by magic alone. I don’t want to leave you two entirely defenseless against them while we are outside of the barrier, so I made these.”

Holding out the beaded necklaces to each of them, Myrth watched uncertainly as they took one. Ivius immediately slipped his over his head, admiring the carved pendant against his chest. Rai took their time observing the craftsmanship, rolling the beads between their fingers as they squinted at the runes carved into them.

“You made these? Last night?” Rai glanced up, looking both impressed and concerned. Myrth let out a self-conscious laugh, reaching up to tangle a hand in his hair.

“I came up with the spell before, but yes… Rune writing isn’t that difficult for me at this point,” Myrth replied, a frown on his face as Rai still didn’t put the necklace on, “I… if you don’t like necklaces I can make something else, a bracer perhaps. Or… a knife?”

“No need,” Rai said, relaxing and tucking the necklace into their pocket, “I’ll put it on when we go out, jewelry isn’t good to have on while your working with horses though. Shaylan likes to mouth things.”

As if to prove their point, Shaylan shook out their half trimmed mane and leaned forward to lip at Myrth’s hands, which he pulled away quickly. He had been nipped by the horse once before and wasn’t fond of a repeat. Offering a gentle pat in consolidation, Myrth forced his nerves down, mentally berating his own misjudgment of the situation as Rai turned back to their work.

“So, a tracking spell? What else?” Myrth startled as Ivius spoke again, withdrawing his gaze from Rai’s focused look. Ivius was peering at the runes again, wisping his magic over each bead slowly. Myrth couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine at the tingling feeling.

“An, uh, an awareness charm,” Myrth stuttered out, “So I know if either of you are getting exhausted or attacked. And a forewarning spell for magical entities. It won’t tell you whether it’s an ally or enemy, but at the very least it will tell you to be prepared.”

“Sounds useful,” Rai said, “Will I be able to use it though? Considering I’m not a mage of any sort.”

“Yes, it has a physical reaction to magic,” Myrth replied confidently, “And you don’t need to be magic for me to be aware of you. I based it upon my barrier spell, so it encompasses an entity rather than a magical base. It won’t draw on your reserves either, Ivius.”

“Oh good, that’s what I was about to ask,” Ivius said, a small laugh escaping his lips, “So, when do you plan on going out?”

“I… Actually, I was hoping to do it today,” Myrth said, scratching his neck uncertainly. He dropped his gaze at the surprised noise from Rai. “I know we haven’t spoken of it since the initial conversation, but…”

“This is something you need,” Ivius offered in an understanding tone, “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“It makes no difference to me when we do this, only that you are prepared. And you too, Ivius, I won’t have you parading around without an ounce of survival gear again,” Rai said, stepping back to brush a hand over Shaylan’s mane, sending a glare over Ivius’ way as they did so. The horse’s mane was cropped shorter now, a thick streak of black running down the center from ear to shoulder. Sticking straight up, it mirrored the traditional clipping of Fjord horse breeds, slightly longer to account for the cold winter weather.

“It was once! Nearly a year ago!”

“You nearly  _ died _ ,” Rai hissed, thwacking him on the arm gently, “It was idiotic. This time you don’t get a choice, you’re carrying a survival kit.”

“I don’t intend to let either of you out of my sight,” Myrth huffed, “It’s too dangerous for Mortals.”

“That’s all fine and well, but I’m sticking to my rules. Ivius still gets a survival kit, and I’m making it for him.” With a final nod to themself more than anyone, Rai turned from both of them and led Shaylan back to her stall. “I trust your abilities Myrth, but I also don’t doubt Ivius’.”

“My abilities to get lost?” Ivius laughed brightly, “At least this time there will be several someones looking for me if I do!”

“You won’t,” Myrth insisted.

“We won’t  _ let _ you,” Rai said, sounding more annoyed than concerned.

“I don’t know, don’t doubt Elm’s exhaustion with my antics,” Ivius said with a hum, following Rai deeper into the stables. Myrth took that as his leave, ducking out the door to leave the pair to their bickering.

He had two Immortals to find.

…

Myrth wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he  _ found _ his familiar, but right now, gripping flowers in his right hand and Elm’s in his left, he wanted to think he was ready to at least search. Guilt still wracked his heart and soul, uncertainty heavy on his mind, but he tried to push the feelings away enough to function.  _ Tried _ , at least.

With a deep breath, he released Elm’s hand and reached to the sky, grasping the tendrils of his magic he had woven centuries before. Twisting them between his fingers, he parted them some, and forced a doorway into their midst, stepping through it with a moment of hesitation. Elm followed close behind him, then Ivius, then Rai, then Zol. Once everyone was out, Myrth released his grip on the magic, the vines reweaving themselves into a seamless wall once more. Tucking his hand in his pocket, Myrth turned back to his lovers, uncertainty wavering his gaze.

“Well… Here we are.” Myrth glanced about nervously, reaching out with his magic to feel for Ekail but coming up empty. A small comfort.

“Indeed… are you sure you are ready for this?” Elm reached forward, touching his fisted grip on the flowers. He relaxed them slightly, the pinpricks of electricity he hadn’t realized were spitting in his hand disappearing with the pressure. 

“I… no, but…”

“But this is something you need to do,” Zol filled in knowingly, a soft smile on his face, “We understand, and we are with you on this.”

They were, weren’t they? It didn’t fix the guilt and fear in his chest, but it took some of the uncertainty off him somehow. With a deep, shaking breath, Myrth closed his eyes and reached towards his magic once more. He had done this once, centuries ago, and written every moment of it down. Rereading such events had been difficult, but he knew what he was to do. If only he could manage it.

His arcana was twisting like vines, growing and swarming up the sides of his souls. It filled his heart with strength, swelling up in an unbridled crescendo for the barest of moments before he took control of it again. The snake-like stalks were easy to bend and mold, pliable as they always were. They shaped easily into that of his Sigil, the mark on his lower back growing warm with his magic. Swallowing thickly, Myrth twisted tendrils outward, the roots of his magic spreading out in undulating waves. They drifted over the world, passing over the fire of Zol, the watery depths of Elm, and Ivius’ breeze. Rai’s signature was as still as the ram on the cliffside, a nonmagical being of course. With the last of his courage, Myrth pushed outward.

He could  _ feel _ everything, the steps of the leopard stalking a hare, the quivering of the eagle resting over its nest. There was a wolf, a goat, a yak, a donkey, several people, a dog. He could feel their lives and beings right now, and yet… none of them were right.

“He’s not here,” Myrth said sadly after a long moment of searching, opening his eyes at last, “He’s not… I… I guess he really is gone.”

“Or we aren’t searching in the right place,” Elm countered, “Come, let us try farther to the West.”

With Elm watching him expectantly, Myrth sighed and reached forward with his magic, twining the vines into a blade. He slashed through space, opening a rift that Elm stepped through, though Myrth lingered behind reluctantly. Zol reached out to brush a hand along Myrth’s arm as he hesitated, drawing his attention his way.

“You have a right to fear,” Zol murmured quietly as he pulled Myrth along, Rai and Ivius close behind, “But you also have a right to closure. One way or another, there will be a resolution to this.”

“And what if it is one I cannot live with?” Myrth hated to ask that question, but it was all that was weighing on his mind. There was so much he already couldn’t live with, so much that had stolen his mind so far. What if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back?

“We have to find a way to carry our guilt without crumbling underneath it,” Zol said softly, “Forgiveness may be difficult, but it is the only thing that allows us to breathe.”

“There’s a story there,” Myrth said, pausing for a moment to eye Zol through his bangs, “One we have yet to hear.”

“Yes, there is,” Zol replied, a hint of sadness on his face, “But today is not the day for that. Today, we finish this chapter.”

“Or start a new one,” Ivius offered gently, nodding to where Elm waited for them, “You have a chance to start anew, why not take it?”

“Why not indeed,” Myrth murmured, mostly to himself. He settled on a rock this time, reaching out with his magic once more. 

For a long, painful moment, all he could feel was life without magic, not a trace of his familiar around. He could feel the heartbeat of the eaglets in their eggs, the chewing of teeth from a yak. Once again, it was only the creatures of the mountain, the birds and the beasts he had locked out for ages. His heart sunk, the twisting of his magic beginning to slow and withdraw. And then… suddenly… it was there. Something soft, bright, and warm, like sunlight. It shone in the periphery of his magic, calling his vines toward it with a gentle, familiar voice. His breath caught in his throat as he responded, reaching out with fear and wonder. He knew this light, the oh-so-ancient feeling of  _ hope _ and  _ friendship _ he had abandoned years ago.

His familiar.

He knew tears were falling as he opened the rift, but he couldn’t find the words to explain to the others. Thankfully, Elm calmed Ivius before he could step forward, her quiet words lost to his mind but not his heart. He was… okay was not the word, but he was  _ something _ , and that was enough right now. Enough for him, and enough for Elm at least. Ivius trusted her, he would listen to her.

The first steps of the creature through the rift crunched on the gravel, and still, Myrth did not open his eyes. He heard the footsteps grow closer, quiet and delicate, but still, did not open his eyes. Only when a cold, wet nose nudged at his hand did he open his eyes, slowly, tentatively.

Before him was a stag, older than he expected but still relatively youthful. His belly was a muddied white that reached down the inside of his legs, blending in with the grey-brown of his overcoat. Curving, three-pronged antlers branched from his head, catching on the edges of Myrth’s coat just slightly. He nudged Myrth’s hand again, intelligent brown eyes boring deep into his soul.

“H-hello again,” Myrth managed to croak, tentatively stroking his muzzle gently, “I… I have missed you.”

“ _ And I, you _ ,” The stag murmured in his mind, a whisper so achingly  _ true _ Myrth choked on a sob. Despite all his fears of what was to come, this moment was true. This moment could make it all worth it.

“I am sorry,” Myrth said after a moment, raising his hand to scratch behind the stag’s ear, “For leaving you, all those years ago.”

“ _ I could say the same as well, _ ” The stag whispered in his mind, “ _ I searched for you, all these years, but I never fought for you. I should have _ .”

“It is not your place to apologize, _ ” _ Myrth said firmly, wiping tears from his face, “You carry no guilt in this, only I do.”

“ _ We are closer in our guilt than you think _ .”

Myrth didn’t want to even  _ try _ to parse what that meant at the moment, so he simply stared. Took in the sight he had missed for all these years. Even as a stag, he could see the similarities to his old friend weasel, the small mark of white over his left eye, the deep brown of his eyes. There was even the splotch of grey across his heart, the shape the weasel’s marking had been. Still, for all the memories resurfacing, the name did not.

“I… your name?”

“ _ Solaire _ ,” The stag answered easily. Solaire… that sounded right.

“Solaire… Thank you.”

“ _ Always. _ ”

“And forever.”

Myrth wasn’t sure where those words came from--some long-ago memory resurfacing--but they felt right on his tongue. Everything felt  _ right _ . He reached up to trace the line of white over Solaire’s eyes, then smiled. It felt  _ right _ . The flowers fell from his grasp, no longer needed. There was no one to bury

“I have much to tell you, but first, there are several someones you need to meet.”


End file.
